


Not Like This

by NocturnalDecay



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Desperation, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:26:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5228612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NocturnalDecay/pseuds/NocturnalDecay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the Deep Roads during act 1 Mercy Hawke is cold and without a bedroll and our handsome apostate has difficulty saying 'no' to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Like This

Hawke is shivering. They're in the deep roads and her bedroll has been given to Aveline. It's fine though, it's her watch anyway. She breathes into her hands and rubs them for warmth. Curse the dank, cool caves. Her gaze moves to the man on the other side of the fire. The strawberry blonde locks peeking out from beneath his covers tug silently at her heart. She should've taken the man up on his offer to share blankets.

As if he can feel the weight of her gaze, Anders awakes. His eyelids parting slowly to find the source of the chatter and huffing. Hawke is huddled across the fire from him. She's doing a piss poor job of being a lookout, distracted by the chill in the air. Dainty, calloused, dirty fingers are grasping at the feathered coat he'd left with her after she declined his offer. Her usually rosey cheeks have paled to a grey beneath her snow white hair. It's not so much that she's cold but rather that the sinking dankness of the deep roads is beginning to wear on her. She can feel it in her core, aching in the marrow of her bones. Of course she'd given her bedroll to Aveline when the drakelings had gotten at the redhead’s own. Everyone knew it was in Hawke’s best interest to put other's needs above her own. The Ferelden rogue had already turned him down once, but the mage just couldn't stand seeing her like this.

"Mercy, you're going to catch a chill if you don't stay warm and get some rest." His voice is low with concern as he's already pushing away his covers. "I'll take it from here, now go get warm." He motions to his roll and she drapes the feathered pauldrons he had insisted she borrow back onto his shoulders. The mage is disheartened by her lack of protest, a show of how truly exhausted she is. His frown deepens as she barely notes the caring squeeze he gives her chilled fingers.

 

Anders has taken up watch against a nearby pillar. He is angled in such a way that he can keep an eye on Hawke while effectively watching the area surrounding their camp. Mercy has shrouded herself in his blankets and has finally ceased chattering, he finds a small comfort in this.

The mage isn't sure how long he's been on watch and jumps a little at the tap on his shoulder. Varric is beside him, his own blanket in tow.

"Go on Blondie," the dwarf nudges his head in Hawke's direction. "she's freezing over there. I never was much for sleeping anyway." The dwarf parks himself further out than Anders, his hand sliding out to pat at Bianca’s hilt.

Anders lays his coat on top of the blankets as he contemplates whether he's actually going to join her. He shouldn't, it's a dangerous idea to be so close to the beautiful woman who hadn’t been shy back in Kirkwall. Justice doesn't approve of the thoughts they share of her and finds her to be awfully distracting, but she is a mage enthusiast in spite of having no magic herself. Mercy shivers and clutches at the feathered pauldrons in her sleep. He let's out a small sigh, his heart a knot in the centre of his chest. Andraste’s saggy tits, but this is a bad idea! Anders thinks even as he climbs beneath the covers and slides in against her bowed back. He doesn't want her to be alarmed by his presence but can feel the shivers, small uncontrolled bursts across her body. Another poor decision, he wraps an arm across her and curves himself around her. Her skin is damp, clammy beneath his hands and he hopes she won't come down with anything. There is still much of the deep roads to explore and it wouldn't be an easy task with her ill.

"Anders, what are you doing?" She whispers into the shoulder of the man holding her.

"Varric is on watch and you're so cold. I hope this isn't too much. I swear, I've been a complete gentleman.” His voice is scarcely more than a whisper but he made sure to fill it with his playfulness masking the true depth of his concern. Hawke chuckles softly and eases against the man spooning her back. It felt good to be in his arms. She fell silent for a long moment.

"Anders," A cautious whisper begins "You've been with a lot of people right?" The words coming out slow and careful. She waits for his response, anticipating lips parting beside her ear.

"Sweetheart, I'm not the man I was back then." It was true he'd been quite promiscuous back in the day, stealing more than a kiss in the dark whenever the chance. Justice had changed him though, he was no longer the cheeky, flirtatious mage he'd once been.

"If... If we had met, back then, would you have... seduced me?"

_Is she crying?_

"In a heartbeat.” He whispers into her hair, tightening his grasp around her ribs in reassurance.

"Anders," There is a distinctive wetness to his name. The fact that she's crying makes the knot in his chest double.

"Hmm?"

"Tell me how you would've done it."

"I'm not sure this is a wise idea." She lets him keep that answer for another time.

"What is the electricity trick? " Anders lets out a small sigh.

"Isabela has been talking I see." His voice still barely a whisper.

"You fucked her." Her words a breath now.

"I've fucked a lot of people Hawke." He could hear the wet hitch with her fluttered breath.

"Not me. It's never me is it?" Anders furrows his brow and closes his eyes for a moment. He shouldn't do what he's about to, but he can hear Aveline's soft snores and knows that Varric is likely spinning one of his tales. He loves the woman currently pressed against his body, she deserves more than what he has to offer but he can't stand this desperate, whispered exchange. The hand that's been holding her around the ribs moves across the clothed plane of her abdomen and rests over her pubic bone. She's still sporting her breaches but he knows it'll work out the same. His long, skilled fingers are pressing at her mound. Hawke, who has been silent, rolls her hips into his touch. Anders hopes that she can stay quiet. He'd love to hear her, his name a moan or torn scream from her lips, but not here, not like this. It's been a long time since he's cast this spell. Electricity is sparking from his fingertips and through her clothed mound, through to her clit. Vibrations flowing along her pubic bone and down to a place deep in her core. Shallow bucks roll her hips in the surge of pleasure. She's trembling against him, attempting to even the ragged breathing through her nostrils. One of her hands is curled around his forearm, her nails will leave crescents where they dig into his skin. She rides the orgasm as long as he'll give it to her hand shaking as she clings to him Anders finally stops casting and soon her grip on him loosens. He is sliding his arm back up under her bust when she thanks him, a small squeak that breaks his heart. A minor penance for how many times he will break hers.


End file.
